Completely, Totally, Utterly Busted
by Nighthawk5
Summary: Harm finds something he was never meant to find and is completely, totally, utterly busted...
1. Chapter 1

Completely, Utterly, Totally Busted

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A/N: YAY!!! Total fluff fic… I just read something far too serious and sad for my liking. I felt like crying and throwing up the whole way through. (JAGfreak, I know I am being a hypocrite, cuz I kill 'em all the time, but why'd "The Things I Couldn't Say" have to be so sad? They're meant to die knowing the other loves them… that way it's not so, so depressing. *tear escapes eye* *wipes it away* Marines don't cry… I ain't a Marine (yet) but Semper Fi ya all!!)

Anyhow, this fic revolves around Mac being TAD on the Seahawk before All Ye Faithful in Season 8. *grins* Harm's snooping in her office and finds something he was never meant to find…. (he he he) and as the title would suggest, is completely, utterly, totally busted.

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I stormed into her empty office and slammed the door behind me. The room was quieter than usual, it was missing her vivacity, semi-dead in her absence.

"You miss her Rabb, damn you miss her," I muttered to myself, remembering the reason I'd come, to locate that annoyingly elusive file on an Article 134 I'd been assigned when Chegwidden had divided her work among her colleagues.

I looked on her desk, which was covered in white sheets of paper and manila folders that all looked incredibly similar.

I looked under desk, on her filing cabinets, under the mess on her desk, in her waste bin (which is where I would've put it, given half a chance) and once again under the mess on her desk.

No file.

Trying to be disappointed, and quashing all thoughts of giving up on the file and conveniently forgetting I had work to do, I roamed the small space thinking of where else a folder with 25 pages of information max would be hidden.

I noticed her desk drawers.

Ordinarily, I would never have thought of it, but today I needed that file. I opened the top drawer. The top drawer was Ok, top drawers are never personal. It was filled with more assorted Mackenzie-usque junk. 

No file.

  
I tried the second drawer. Stationary, a few cases I'm sure she'd shoved in there in hope of the drawer consuming its contents while she was on lunch, but no file.

I tried the third drawer with similar results.

Finally, I reached the bottom drawer. If top drawers are never personal, then bottom drawers most certainly always are. The bottom drawer is where you hide the stuff you don't want anyone to see, its at the bottom, it's the last place they'll look.

I opened the drawer hesitantly. 

A near-empty space greeted me. There were two or three clean sheets of white paper, a few photographs, two of her and I, and one small, innocent looking notebook. I flicked through the contents of the drawer, making an instant inventory. Nothing that appeared to be covering for a rogue file.

I closed the bottom drawer and sat at her desk. That notebook had been the most interesting thing in that drawer. I thought about the cover of the exercise book curiously. It had been covering with sketches and scribbles. Obviously something she felt was important enough to keep safe and secret in her bottom drawer. There was a certain psychology to the bottom drawer of ones desk, and when small, innocent looking notebooks appear in bottom drawers, they are more than likely not innocent at all.

I opened the drawer again.

  
The book gazed at me eagerly.

I looked away, but didn't close the door.

I turned back.

The book's eyes never left me.

I turned to face the window.

I could feel it's stare boring holes into my back.

I turned around, picked it up and flipped to the first page.

_Mmhmm baby, well it's been a long, long time since you were close to me, and I've been thinking maybe… maybe, maybe, maybe we could be. Maybe we got something oh… and I've been wanting you such a long, long time. I've been missing, missing, missing you when you're gone… oh yeah, and I've been thinking maybe, maybe, maybe, just maybe, we got something to build a dream on. Hold on, hold on to me, hold on, something to build a dream on._

_*hums*_

_  
Well I've never tried this before, writing in a diary I mean. Sure I had a few journals when I was growing up, and even when I've been older, but a journal is different to a diary. A journal is where you have a practical conversation with yourself about the comings and goings of your life, your relationships, your job, and your feelings. A diary on the other hand is where you ramble about the assorted mush inside your head making you feel weak at the knees. (Although if the man making me weak in the knees was in my head, I'd be convinced I was crazy by now.) _

_  
I confess, my sole purpose here was to gush about him. (And yes, my non-committal ways and severe paranoia have ensured that I refuse to write his name in here. Someone might read it. *blushes* I think I'd die in embarrassment if he ever read this.)_

I stopped reading, realising that this was a classified document not cleared for my eyes. But I wanted to know who she was talking about, who that lyrical verse at the beginning was for. I had a fair idea who I wanted her to be talking about… I re-read the last few lines and felt guiltier than ever, but read on anyway

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	2. Chapter 2

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_I think I'm falling in love with him. I can't stop looking at him. We're in an interview now, and I know I shouldn't be writing this, especially with him sitting right next to me, but he's so close, I can feel him beside me. I know I shouldn't be staring at him so often. He'll catch me doing it and know I'm looking. My internal clock says it's been five minutes since the last glance. I look again. Oh gosh, the sea green eyes, the curve of his jaw, the familiar face, the lips… his lips. They look good to kiss. Ugh, where did that thought come from? Where are all these thoughts coming from? You need to get a grip Marine. You can't be falling in love with him. That would be wrong on so many levels (but right on so many others)._

I smiled. The eternal internal clock of hers put to such uses was very amusing. I still didn't know who she was talking about. It wasn't hard to tell if you read between the lines, but I didn't want to say that it was obviously me because it sounded didn't want to say it was obviously me, because it sounded arrogant and sure of myself, which I definitely wasn't when it came to her. I was so unsure of myself in fact that after four long years, several near-death experiences, her far-too-close-to-marriage with another man, and months of almost-more-than best friendship, I was still absolutely terrified of telling her how I felt. There were only two things that inspired that kind of fear in my: losing Sarah Mackenzie and learning the Sarah Mackenzie didn't love me.

  
_"I think I'm falling in love with him."_

I could almost hear her voice saying those words. But that was so long ago now I made myself realise. And even then she was only "thinking" and she hadn't "fallen". 

"You shouldn't be reading this," I said to myself, feeling like I was taking the back door into understanding Mac's thoughts and emotions.

I read on.

I hate to say I'm heart-broken, I am, but I'd hate to admit it. I'd hate to actually have to look him in the eye and say that he'd hurt me. He shouldn't be able to hurt me. We're not involved, just friends, and we're not in love or anything. So why do I feel so rejected? (And for an F-14 no less). He left everything here: his job, his friends, his me. Yes, his me. He left me here. That hurts. That hurts more than it should. He gave me up to fly. Flying was more important than me. He loves flying… does the fact that he left mean he doesn't love me? Does he love me? Why in God's name to I want to know?

But I know why I want to know.

I want to know for a very good reason.

Because I love him. Not just a 'crush', not just a one-or-two month kind of love. A forever kind of love, an eternity kind of love. 

Oh God, did I do that to her? Did I really hurt her that much by going to fly? I tried to answer her questions- Why did she feel rejected? I never meant the decision to hurt her, much les reject her, and the fact that I left JAG to fly meaning I didn't love her? Never in forever did I intend for her to get that impression. In fact, when I'd changed my designator I'd even hoped in part that free of the legal issues surrounding fraternisation, Mac and I would be able to work something out. It'd always been one of my long-standing grievances that we hadn't. Now I realised why we didn't. She thought I was leaving because I didn't care about her. How could we have misunderstood each other so drastically?

I miss him. I miss him all the time. When I'm awake, I miss him. When I'm asleep, I miss him. When I'm at work, I miss him. When I'm at home, I miss him. I just miss him, physically, emotionally, in every possible way, with every fibre of my being, I miss him. I swear, if he ever comes back, even if it's just leave for the weekend, I'm going to spend the entire time he is in my presence exploring the geography of his arms. That man is going to hold me when he gets back on dry land. So what if I promised myself I'd never have children with a fighter pilot? So what if I said flying was out if him and I were going to be 'us'? He's going to hold me, and I am going to love him in a way he will never forget.

I stared at the page for a long moment. Her tears blurred the text in several places. I wanted to cry. Had I been any more of a man I probably would've, but I couldn't. I was missing her so much, and knowing that she'd felt the same when I was flying hurt. I'd never wish the hollow ache I felt on her. If it were my choice she'd never feel that way ever again. I'd take her up on the exploration expedition offer though. I sighed. This little scribble from years ago was the most accurate summary of everything I felt now, when she was the one at sea. It seemed the problem with Mac and I was we never felt the same thing at the same time. I thought about that for a moment. That wasn't entirely true when properly considered. I'd missed her while I was flying too. Sure, I was busy and when I was busy I was loving every minute of being a pilot again, but when the busyness died a little, when I was alone and it was as dark and quiet as an aircraft carrier can get, then I'd missed her, really missed. I'd missed her so much at night that I'd even drafted several transfer applications in the early hours of the morning. She'd never seen all the unfinished requests and unsent letters. 

I got promoted today. Harm'd have to salute me if he was here. If he was here… damnit, why can't he be here? I want him here. He'd be proud of me; I know he would. He'd be smiling that flyboy smile and offering the most heartfelt congratulations of all. And he'd probably offer to take me to dinner (my shout, as with the promotion comes the pay rise… or that'd be his logic) and he wouldn't fuss about it, or make a big deal of it, but I'd know he was proud of me by the way he'd show me off to everyone, behaving like he was courting me, even if he wasn't (on his choice, not mine) and being the irresistible cross between fighter pilot and gentleman that he is. But he's not here and I'm staring at the slides in front of me alone, turning them over and running my hand along the new design. I miss my best friend.

I hated it how I'd missed her promotion. Sure I'd seen it coming a mile away, forget Colonel, that woman'd make a damn fine General, but I wished I'd been there to congratulate her instead of just-barely distracting myself from her gorgeous eyes long enough to notice her new rank slides only just quickly enough to salute her when she'd come aboard the carrier.

I can't believe I did that. I requested that assignment to see him again. I am never, ever, for the rest of my life, doing something that pathetic and lovesick for Harmon Rabb.

I didn't find it pathetic or lovesick at all. Seeing her again, wanting so badly to touch her, to taste her and feel her again on that carrier had been enlightening for me. And requesting an assignment to see a friend? I'd done that before. Admittedly the results had been disastrous for our relationship, but I'd needed to see her. I'd needed to make sure she knew how much she meant to me. That wasn't pathetic or lovesick in my opinion.

HE'S BACK, HE'S BACK, HE'S BACK, HE'S BACK!!!!  
*screams in her current ecstasy*

He's back. (As I believe I have mentioned.) 

I am SOOOOO happy.

There is a God. He gave me another chance with Harm.

I love him, I love him, I love him and HE'S BACK!!!

(There goes my promise to never do something pathetic and lovesick for Harm… meh, I love the guy: so shoot me.)

So she did love me. I tried to think of why I'd only once in my life honest to God tried to hit on Sarah Mackenzie, and why that one time had been at her engagement party.

I found no good reason.

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	3. Chapter 3

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Oh God, I think I could go all the way with him: marriage, kids, white picket fence… but first I suppose we'd have to go all the way the other way. We're good together, we look together, we feel good together: we just aren't together. I always feel like I've got him halfway to bed and then his righteous side kicks in, one of us mentions commitment and it becomes official: HRJ has left the building. For this reason I think it'd have to be on the spur of the moment with us… I've always imagined it as sheer damned desire, a no-strings-attached affair and afterwards we could talk, because afterwards it will be easier to talk.

  
I sound like a slut: we'll discuss specifics in the morning, but I want it right here, right now. (Mmm, yes, God yes, right there…oh God *Sarah Mackenzie is cruelly pulled out of her suitably steamy fantasy by the cold harsh reality of her best friend not loving her back*)

"Not true," I whispered quietly.

But I don't think I could sit opposite him, look him in the eye and discuss having sex with him. Oh no Harmon Rabb Jnr, that conversation will never result in the act, more likely I'll end up laughing hysterically in discomfort and you backing away. (Not that that would be a bad thing, the more physical distance between us during that debate the better… God knows what I'd do to you if you were that close in a conversation like that…)

I laughed a little. God she was an amazing woman. I made a mental note to ensure there was as little physical distance as possible when we had that conversation.

Well we're on a submarine now. In fact, you're lying right above me as I write this. All I can think of is how you said we weren't married. Oh God Harm, sometimes I wish you weren't such a flyboy. Cuz I'm sure it's the dress whites and gold wings that encourage your intense phobia of fidelity. They look damn sexy, but if all I ever get to do is look, I don't know how I'll die a satisfied woman. *sighs* I'm a walking contradiction. Now that I've told you to quit being a flyboy, I'm gonna beg with you to be one more often. (As long as you're MY flyboy and I get to remove the wings and the whites every once in a while) Commit to me damnit (just physically, the emotional stuff can come later), love me just once, one stupid, lustful, passionate fling in some foreign country. And for just one night, one foolish (but rewarding, I promise you *winks*) night, would you please call me Sarah instead of Mac?

I think I'll go take a cold shower now.

Love you, as always, Mac (who wants to be called Sarah…)

I grinned. God knows what would've happened on that submarine had I known what she was thinking.

"Call you Sarah for just one night?" I asked her in her absence, "Colonel, when I finally get around to making love to you it will not be a one time affair."

If I ever stop crying I may be able to write something coherent, until then, you're stuck with a crushed woman. He said no. Oh how could I have been so wrong about the way I thought he felt about me? It was getting obviously mutual in some ways, but tonight, why would he not go there with me tonight if he felt the same way? We're on another side of the planet from our ordinary lives, living amongst a different culture (which despite its apparent laziness has an underlying charm and exotic, albeit smog ridden, air), in one of the most beautiful places in the world… and he still doesn't jump. I don't get it, or else I don't want to get it. It's perfectly obvious actually when you consider it objectively, through the eyes of Mac the Marine, not Sarah the love struck woman. Contrary to the widely held belief, with which I previously concurred, Harmon Rabb does in fact make sense. When you stop looking at his actions with the assumption that he loves me, it's all incredibly simple. He doesn't want to hurt me. He doesn't love me, so he said wait, because it's his way of 'letting me down gently'. Had love not been so blind I might have seen it before, but now I do, and I realise: Harm doesn't love me. And so no matter how much I love him, I have to move on from that, because I can't chase a dream forever with no hope of it becoming a reality. I can't wait for eternity, but I'll still love him then.

Oh God. Again, she'd got the wrong message. I didn't want to 'let her down' gently or otherwise. I didn't want to hurt her and I certainly didn't want her to end up engaged to another man. I had been 100% totally in love with Sarah Mackenzie that night in Sydney- I just felt that getting together then would've been for all the wrong reasons and none of the right ones. I didn't want to throw away everything we had away because of one stupid night in a foreign country. Mac was worth more to me than that. She still is. I refuse to sleep with her before all the stuff that comes before sex, like a relationship, dates, and conversations, that sort of thing. Just because we're best friends doesn't mean we can just fall into bed together without any thought for the ramifications. Then again, had I known that four days later she'd be dating/engaged to Mic Brumby, things might've been different in Sydney, cuz even though it wasn't worth losing her because of sex, it certainly wasn't worth losing her over no sex.

_I've discovered something wonderful: rebounding to one man from another is not always a bad thing. Sometimes a woman can be incredibly lucky, like me with Mic. Not only do I have a gorgeous rock on my right hand (and I say Harm's afraid of commitment!) but I also have a wonderful Australian boyfriend in my kitchen. Definitely lucky. I'd be thanking my lucky stars in fact, but I can't see them from here. (The Southern Cross is officially my lucky constellation… I still remember when he proposed, it was right above me! *smiles* I thought it was stupid at the time, but now it's all really sweet!) I still haven't said yes. I feel a little guilty about that. He's quit his job and moved here to be with me, and I'm still not sure whether we love each other enough for me to marry him. I don't know. Maybe I'm a little afraid of a repeat of my last experience with matrimony to rush into anything. But he's so patient with me… which only makes me feel more guilty about not saying yes._

_*laughs*_

_Well this entry is different to most of the others, I don't believe I've gushed about Harm at all the entire time._

_Harm. *Winces*. Yeah, he broke my heart in Sydney, he really did. But his reaction to Mic was… a little colder than icy. Below absolute zero one could say. Maybe most of it's jealousy, but every now and then I see him looking at me and I can't help but shake the feeling that maybe I've hurt him too. *Sighs* He tries to be happy for me, I can see he wants me to be happy, but I just… I just have second thoughts about his intentions that night now. Maybe I read him all wrong. Either way, we're a lot less complicated than we used to be. Harm is nothing if not a gentleman, and while I'm sure I've seen him looking, I know he'd never act upon any desire of his to be with another man's girlfriend. And I guess that's what I am… otherwise engaged. Engaged? God, am I engaged to Mic? Will I be engaged to Mic? Yes. Yes I think I will be._

I wanted to stop reading, but I forced myself to reach the end of the entry. How had I managed to force her into the arms of someone else? Why couldn't I just tell her how I felt then, now…? To risk losing her because I was afraid of taking the risk of being with her made little sense.

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	4. Chapter 4

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_I can't believe what just happened. He kissed me, at my engagement party. (Due my state of disbelief, I'm sure you all picked up on the fact that I am not talking about my fiancée.) That bittersweet conversation on the balcony… it makes me cry, but it makes me smile too. We share so many memories, so many ups and downs and twists, turns, loops and drops. But he kissed me. _

_"You have someone who will always love you Sarah."_

_What is that supposed to mean? He used my first name. Is he talking about him? I doubt that he's talking about Mic, so is he talking about God? And that wasn't the first time he brought up love either._

_"He was right you know."_

_"About what?"_

_"Some people being in love with you."_

_"What people, what people?" I had asked him. Oh I so desperately want to know what people. I need to know. I can't marry someone else if I don't know. If he can't look me in the eye and honestly tell me that he doesn't love me… then I don't know why I'm engaged to another man._

_  
That kiss._

_I'm sure Mic can tell I've kissed him. I can still taste that kiss on the balcony. That was not a good-bye kiss, we both knew that. If it had been a good-bye kiss the tongues wouldn't have been involved, the desire in me screaming to be acted upon. God, one more kiss and I wouldn't be marrying someone else, I'd be sharing a bed with Harm and sleeping enveloped in his arms every night for eternity. _

_Get a hold of yourself Mackenzie. You can't be engaged and thinking thoughts like that with regard to your best friend. If one kiss can turn my head I don't know how our marriage will survive. Of course it wasn't just any kiss. It was a kiss from Harm, and he has never had any trouble turning my head. Lord, I wish that for one night you could've released us from the misfortunes of circumstance. If that conversation had happened at any other party, if that kiss had happened on any other occasion, I'm sure the resulting circumstances would be entirely different._

_  
That conversation was so confusing. The only thing I fully understood was what I meant when I said he'd have someone that will always love him. That meant I still love Harm. And yet I'm marrying someone else in two weeks…_

I'd been thinking exactly the same thing about that kiss. I can't remember why I apologised to her, I should've kissed her again and again until I finally managed to kiss some sense into her. I loved her. How could she have married someone else? It still made me feel sick to think that she had come within a day of marrying another man, and I had come a day within losing her forever. 

_The famous Rabb nerve! He's going flying the day before my wedding. The DAY before my wedding. He's missing the rehearsal dinner and he probably won't make it the ceremony. But he *has* to be there. How can I get married without my best friend, the most important person in my life, present? Damn him. If I didn't know better I'd say he was avoiding it for some reason. But why wouldn't he want me to marry Mic? _

_I've realised what a stupid question that was, given his comments at my engagement party. He apologised for that the other day. I don't know why, it was the sweetest damn kiss I've ever participated in in my life._

_So what if Harm loves me and the reason he's not going to be there is because he doesn't want to see me marry someone else?_

That doesn't give him the right to just NOT come. Flying, again flying is more important than my special day. The jerk. I am never speaking to him again if he is not there.

I couldn't resist a grin. I knew she'd been pissed off to say the least when I'd told her I was going to fly my quals the day before her wedding. Avoidance? Maybe a little. I still don't know how I managed to agree to sit in a church and watch her walk down the aisle in a white dress, swear to live happily every after and kiss Mic Brumby without going insane in the process. I knew I couldn't do it. I would've done it for her, I'd do anything for her, but watching as I gave up the woman I loved without a fight? That's what she'd asked me to do, and it was pushing the boundaries of anything.

(A/N: Am claiming poetic license on the kiss… am fully aware the actual kiss was not as involved as I made out- pun not intended.)

God I'm sorry for all the negative things I ever said about Harm. I'm sorry for getting so mad when he said he was going flying. I'm sorry I get jealous of a Tomcat. I'm sorry, I'm truthfully, honestly sorry for all my shortcomings, bad habits and misgivings. I swear, if you bring him back to me, I will never not tell him how I feel just because of where we are. Like he said, where we are doesn't change who we are, so if being on a ferry in Sydney harbours doesn't change who we are, standing on the Admiral's balcony at my engagement party doesn't change who we are. And I love him God, please, I love him so much. I'm sorry I'm meant to be marrying someone else in 14 hours and 30 minutes. I love him. Don't take him from me before he knows that.

I shivered. Why did she have to write the most beautiful things when she was upset? I re-read the paragraph several times. She loved me. I wondered why she hadn't told me that when I'd come ashore. 

The next few entries were dark and depressing.

I feel like shit. 100%, totally, absolutely depressed. Mic left today. He just got up, moved out then left the country. There were no warnings, no explanations, he just left. And Harm. Harm, I love you, why do you hurt me so much? You asked me to come to you and you left me standing all alone in the freezing rain. Damnit, I got drenched watching you make out with your girlfriend Sailor. I fell and you let me fall, so now I'm just sinking into this abyss. I don't think there's a way out. I'm just nothing, nothing to no one, no one at all. What's the point in all of this? We dance in misery, lost in the arms of agony, dancing endlessly, cradled in impossibility. We dance and we dance and yet we go nowhere, nothing changes. It's just this endless circle that ends in pain. If my life is always going to be about our dance, I want to die today.

I had no answer to that.

The ensuing pages were blank, dates written at the top, but no text on the lines. The next entry happened almost a month later.

Mmmm, because she loves him, because she loves him. I'll forgive the man because he's the man. (But not yet my man…) I was angry at him this morning, now I couldn't love him more. The beginning, *smiles* such an interesting place to start from. So if we go from the beginning, does that mean we get a different ending this time? Maybe a happily ever after?

I'd hoped so too at the time. How we had managed to get to the point where there was no way forward I didn't know, all I knew was that I'd wanted my best friend back, if she could double as my girlfriend then the mother of my children and wife then that was just something wonderful to compliment our friendship.

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	5. Chapter 5

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_Afghanistan. Do I love the country or what? His arms. He kept me so warm. _

It's too bad I need to be in a war zone at night in the desert to have an excuse to curl up in those arms.

_When I'm writing the thank yous after our wedding, remind me to thank those sheep that strayed onto the road ahead of us._

_*laughs*_

Listen to me, carrying on like we have more than a snowballs chance in hell of ever getting it right. But at the moment I'm getting more and more hopeful that we *will* get it right. We've been getting along so well lately. Ever since the JAGathon, he's been so sweet! I know we agreed to start over but I didn't know I was going to fall in love with him all over again. And by his actions lately, I'd be saying he loves me too this time. I know we're dealing with some grey area here, but hell, the line between friendship and love is always a blurred one. With us, I'm not even sure there is a line. Our friendship starts and then I suppose love starts, but I'm not sure when or where or how.

_I know I didn't keep my part of the bargain I made with God when Harm went swimming, but I think I will. I want him to know how I feel, but at the same time I'm afraid because if he doesn't think its mutual then everything between us will become awkward. I feel like we're dating, we see each other all the time, he eats lunch with me most days and takes me out on weekends. He's making a real effort to make this "back at the beginning" thing work. _

_I love him, he's such a good friend. _

_He wrote me a little note before we left the Seahawk, after we found out Bud was going to be all right. (Thank God he was there, I don't know how I would've survived that time in the hall without Harm beside me.) It was addressed and signed, "To my best friend forever, love always Harm." He's left me lots of little messages since then, one line e-mails, little notes left on my desk or in case files which we're working on together, text messages on my phone… all serving no other purpose than to simply tell me he cares about me. (Someone remind me why am not marrying this man?!?! I mean, can you get any more perfect?) _

I was so absorbed in the witty musings of her heart that I didn't hear the door open, then close.

"Harm?" she called to me, crossing the office and standing in front of her desk, eyeing me warily, "What are you doing here?"

I looked up, "Hey Mac. I was…"

She stared at what I was holding in my hand for one moment, her fists clenched at her sides, her lower jaw about to crumble under the pressure of her upper, and her shoulders tensed.

I didn't know what to say, so I opted to say nothing.

She remained in her shocked state before pivoting on her heel, muttering something resembling 'Omigod shame' and walking out of the office.

I followed her to the break room, where she appeared to be attempting to overdose on Christmas chocolates.

"Have you read that?" she asked me, gesturing to the book that was still in my hand.

"Maybe some of it," I replied sheepishly, looking very guilty.

"Once I recover from the embarrassment of you seeing the innermost revelations of my soul, and once I can look at you without feeling completely naked, you'd better watch your six Commander, because I swear, I will be so angry that I will kick it from here to the middle of a war zone if you don't."

I grinned at her, "The innermost revelations of your soul aren't the best bit Colonel, it's the secret desires of your inner-teenager that I enjoyed the most."

She glared at me.

"Seriously Mac, I'm sorry. I was looking for some files on your desk, and I found it, so I picked it up and just read the first page to make sure it wasn't what I was looking for and… well… it was stuff I'd always wanted to know and you'd never told me, so I kept reading even though I knew I shouldn't have and before you know it, I'd finished half of it."

Her glare softened a little, but she was still potentially nuclear.

"You were never meant to know any of that," she murmured, "That was stuff I didn't mean for anyone to see… I can't believe that you would do that to me to satisfy your own curiosity."

I searched for the ejection handles, desperately looking for a way to punch out of the dangers this conversation promised.

"I know, I shouldn't have," I paused, "I'm so sorry Mac. Or should I call you Sarah? You said…"

"Shut up," she retorted, "But you can call me whatever you like."

"I suppose it's only fair that I divulge the same sort of information to you," I mused, waiting to see her reaction.

She entertained the idea with amusement for several seconds, then her facial expression changed. She was afraid I wouldn't tell her the same sort of stuff that I'd just read; I could see it in the way she bristled suddenly.

"Sarah?" I interrupted her thoughts.

"What?" she whispered, tears welling behind her eyes.

"I've missed you so much. When you were TAD, I don't know, I just… physically missed having you here, cuz I need you here, I like having you here, and I would be devastated if you weren't here. I don't tell you that enough."

She stared at me in amazement.

"You were serious?"

"Yeah," I shrugged, "But I've wanted to tell you that all week."

"Go on Commander," she commanded quietly, the authoritative tone never leaving her voice.

"I don't know where to begin all of this. Maybe one day when we're not in uniform, at the office we can read this together," I suggested, handing her the small book, "And talk about my side of things. Until then, I think I can risk discharge once."

"How would…"

I interrupted her by kissing her, feeling brave and stupid, but incredibly good that I'd acted on the impulse. There was second of doubt that she'd object before she returned my kiss eagerly.

"You'd risk discharge to kiss me in the break room?" she murmured against my lips.

"Hell yes Sarah Mackenzie, you think you're not deserving of a caffeine driven coupling in the middle of a JAG office?"

The second kiss was a little more heated, my hands had discovered the curve of her hips and by her reaction I could tell she wasn't totally against any kind of coupling anywhere, caffeine induced or not.

By the third kiss I was unbuttoning the front of her winter jacket, fully aware of what I was doing and entirely driven by uncontrolled, unchecked desire. Her hands were sliding down the front of my blues, caressing the buttons but indecisive in her action. She reached up to my neck again and was loosening my collar, her lips still searching mine, when the Admiral walked in.

Completely, utterly, totally busted were the first words that came to mind. Twice, in one day, I'd been caught doing something I definitely should not have been doing. What was even worse was that both of those times I'd manage to fluster my Marine. (Although it sure wasn't a bad method of doing so the second time…) 

  
I moved away from her slightly as the Commanding Officer strode in, but not far enough that I wouldn't be able to protect her if he got really mad. (And he looked like he was going to get beyond really mad.) I tensed and waited for the Admiral's verbal onslaught, ready to respond with the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth: I didn't give a damn about Article 134, the only thing I regretted about the previous five minutes was that Mac was now very hurriedly trying to re-button her jacket and was clearly very embarrassed to be doing so in front of her CO.

It was the first time I'd seen Chegwidden at loss for words. He spluttered for a minute, before settling for the name he instinctively yelled whenever anything went wrong at the office, "RABB!"

"Yes Sir?" I replied, more confidently that I felt.

"AND MACKENZIE."

Mac flinched a little and then came to a standing position that looked vaguely like attention, "Yes Sir?" she responded, quieter and less-commanding than usual.

"MY OFFICE. NOW!"

With that, AJ stormed out, muttering to himself about the apparent stupidity of his senior officers.

"Uh oh," she smiled at me, "He's talking in monosyllables."

"That's not good," I replied, stepping closer to her again and pushing her hair behind her ears. It occurred to me that this woman was most beautiful creature on the planet. 

I kissed the top of her head lightly.

"Don't worry, I'll save you," she murmured.

I reached down and unbuttoned the bottom buttons of her jacket, and re-buttoned them so they were in the correct position before beginning to walk away from her reluctantly. She joined me at the door, and we fell into step as we left the break room and walked in the direction of the Admiral's office.

"Do you regret that?" I inquired quietly as I knocked on the dreaded wooden door that led to a certain ass whipping and probably a not-so-idle threat of court-martial.

She gazed at me for a long moment, "No."

"ENTER," Chegwidden called from within.

"Good, cuz there'll be plenty of other times when he doesn't interrupt," I said to her, entering the office before she had a chance to respond.

*           *           *           *           *           *


	6. Chapter 6

*           *            *            *            *            *

She glared at me angrily.

"I have never been so embarrassed in my life," she announced, pacing the office repeatedly.

I stood watching her, wondering how I was going to survive this day. 

_This day is called the battle of on-the-warpath-beyond-angry-down-right-pissed-off-Marine:_

_He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,_

_Will stand on tip-toe when the day is named,_

_And rouse him at the name of this battle_

"So this is my fault."

It was a statement, not a question.

"Well yes, as a matter of fact it is," she informed me scathingly.

_He that shall live this day, and see old age,_

_Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,_

_And say 'To-morrow is the day'_

_Then he will strip his sleeve and show his scars_

_And say 'She did that'_

"That's unfair," I replied softly. 

"Yeah, maybe it is," she paused, "But I don't care. First you read my diary, then you, you- humiliate me in front of my commanding officer and now you think I WON'T be mad at you? What planet are you on?"

_Old men forget: yet all shall be forgot,_

_But he'll remember with a cringe_

_What he endured that day: then shall the names_

_Familiar in his mouth as household words_

_Harry the king, Bedford and Exeter,_

_Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester,_

_All innocent bystanders subjected to her wrath_

_Be their painful deaths freshly remember'd_

This situation needed to be diffused fast. I could almost hear the timers ticking now. 

"Hurry, we only have two minutes to detonation."

"Firstly, I did not humiliate you, I kissed you and you enjoyed it, and secondly, for about a minute back there I though we were finally on the same planet. Apparently I was mistaken."

"It would appear that way."

"Are you trying to pick a fight with me?"

"Do you deserve any less?"

This story shall the good man teach his son:

_Never mess with a Marine digging a foxhole_

_And readying herself for combat_

_Murphy's Law of Survival #1: RUN!_

"Probably not."

"Did you honestly think I wouldn't know if you read it? Did you really think I wouldn't care?"

"No, I mean I didn't intend--- I didn't think---"

"Yeah, that would be your problem. You didn't think."

_And this battle shall ne'er go by_

_From this day to the ending of the world_

_But we in it shall be remember'd_

_We few, we frightened few, we band of fools_

_For he to-day that sheds his blood is a children's party clown wannabe_

_And he shall be my brother, should he survive her_

"My bad."

"Damn straight Commander."

"So what do you wanna do?"

"Forget about it."

"I can't remember a word of your writings."

"No I mean forget all of it, this entire day never happened."

"And then what?" I asked bravely.

"Excuse me?"

"Sure, we could forget about today, what happens then?"

She looked confused.

"Do you honestly think everything will be the same?" I continued by way of explanation, "Hell, knowing us it probably will. But is normal really good enough Sarah?"

"Stop calling me that, I feel like I'm at my own funeral when you call me that," she snapped.

"You said ---"

"Yeah I did. That was years ago. In the past, not present tense."

"And in present tense you don't feel exactly the same?"

"What? That hopeful-of-homicide feeling? Yes, it's exactly the same."

_This day shall gentle her condition_

_And gentlemen in America now a-bed_

_Shall think themselves damned lucky they were not here_

_And hold their manhoods intact while any speaks_

_That fought with the fools in this battle against a homicidal USMC Lieutenant Colonel._

"Sa- Mac," I searched for a comprehendible string of words that would with any luck make grammatical sense as well as being a pattern of words meant to go together, "I know you're really mad at me---"

"Understatement of the geological era. Never in the Cenozoic Era have I heard a more perfect truism."

"I know you're really, really, really mad at me. I know you want to kill me right now--- but, but I don't understand why you want to forget about today."

She rewarded me with a poisonous glare that would've petrified peak hour traffic.

I averted her gaze for roughly two seconds, before facing her Evil Eye again.

"So maybe I made a mistake, but why does the damage have to be irreparable?"

"Because the offence is irreversible."

"I've already apologised---"

"That does not mean I have forgiven you."

"No it doesn't."

I paused.

"But can't we try and work this out? I mean all of it, not just what happened today, what has been happening for the past seven years almost."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Why'd you write those things Mac?"

"Cuz I meant them. I think, don't know now. I always thought I could *trust* you," she informed me with all too much emphasis on trust, "I never thought you'd do something so--- well low really."

"Well I didn't think you'd ever write anything like that."

"It wasn't meant to be seen by anyone."

"Then why was it in your desk drawer?"

"Happened to throw it in there one day. No big deal, most people don't snoop through other people's drawers," she raised her voice slightly.

"I was looking for a file Mac."

"Don't believe you and why should I after what you did?"

"Because I'm telling you the truth. Maybe I did something stupid, but I never lied to you: why would you think I would?"

"Belief is a large component of trust."

"Did you mean what you wrote?"

"Yes."

"All of it?"

"Yes."

"Do you still mean it?"

"Trust is a large component of love."

"Touché."

"I try," she smiled sadistically.

"I've tried."

"What?"

"I've tried to sort this out, but you are being un-cooperative."

"Un-cooperative?" she squeaked incredulously.

"Yeah, un-cooperative."

"Well why should I cooperate with a man who just read something incredibly personal and is now relishing the opportunities he has to tease me about it?"

"You think I'm teasing you?"

"Yeah," she replied, as if it were the most obvious answer in the world.

"You misread me Colonel."

"When all of what you want to say is hidden between the lines you must be prepared for misinterpretation."

"I am not teasing you."

"You are so."

"I am not."

"You are so."

"I am not."

"You are---" she stopped mid-sentence realising how childish we sounded, "You are," she mumbled quietly.

"I'm not, I swear. I just want to know how you feel."

"I believe I've made my anger and animosity apparent."

"So you hate me and that is it?"

She opened her mouth to respond, but had no answer.

"Well?"

"I don't hate you," she sighed, "Wish I did sometimes, but no, I do not and never have hated you."

"Good."

"I still just want to forget about it and survive my Christmas thank you very much."

"Well see, we're going to encounter some difficulties there."

"Where?"

"Well, for one I know for a fact that Harriet has purposefully adorned every doorway in her house with mistletoe in an attempt to catch everyone out. And secondly, I haven't got you a Christmas present yet."

"There is still plenty of time before Christmas Harm, and I am a Marine. I have been in a war zone for the past few weeks, I'm sure I can handle mistletoe. We have every other year."

"Not working this year." 

"Why not?"

I shrugged, "Because to put it simply, I don't want it to. I don't want to avoid the issue any more."

"What issue? There is no issue."

"You been hanging out with Webb on the Seahawk or something?"

"No. *What* issue?"

"You can't be serious. Mac, you know what I'm talking about."

"No, I don't, now tell me," she responded in frustration.

"*This* issue."

"Commander, I believe we have been through this. WHAT issue?"

"The fact that you've written all those things for years and never told me any of it."

"Why would I tell you what I've written in my diary?"

"Because--- well because most of it is stuff I wish you had told me. I never knew how you felt about lots of things. If I had, things would've been different, a lot different. Why in hell did you not tell me how upset you were when I left JAG to fly? You thought I was leaving you. I was never leaving you."

"Well you did."

"I didn't know you saw it that way. It had nothing to do with you. You were the most important reasons I had to stay."

"But you still left, because I wasn't as important as other things."

"No, I still left because I thought that maybe we could work something out. I mean, we can't---we're in the same chain of command."

She stared at me, "So I'm meant to believe that you left *for* me?"

"No. It wasn't like that either. I left for a multitude of reasons, but yes, you were one of them."

"Then why'd you just go?"

"Because you wouldn't talk to me. I get it now, after reading that, but at the time I had no idea you were hurt by what happened."

She rolled her eyes, "You are so perceptive."

"I *am* a guy Mac."

"No excuse. If you couldn't tell I was upset," she paused, "How the hell could you not tell?"

"Because you can't assume anything when you're involved. We misunderstand each other too often."

"So what other times would you say we had misunderstood each other? I thought we understood each other pretty much perfectly. We can talk without talking, I know exactly how you'll react in every situation you're in and vice versa. Where's the misunderstanding?"

"Sydney."

"That one was pretty simple. I asked you how you felt, threw myself at you and you told me to take a long walk of a short pier. Again I pose the question, where is the misunderstanding?"

"I said wait, not get lost. There is a vast difference. In that book of yours you said something about turning you down gently. That was never my intention."

"Then what was your intention? You make no sense!"

"Yet you claim to understand me."

"What was your intention?"

"I asked you to wait. I said exactly what I wanted. A little more time to clear a few things up. My life was pretty screwed at the time Mac. I didn't want to bring you into all of that just then."

"In case you didn't notice I was a part of that anyway. I work with you, you were my best friend," she sighed, "Pathetic argument."

"I didn't want to lose you if it didn't work out, I just wasn't ready for that, then. You surprised me."

"If you couldn't see that coming you *are* blind."

"What do you mean?"

"Oh come on, I'd been hinting for weeks, even months and you--- well you never caught on."

"I thought--- I thought you thought of me as a friend Mac. I had no idea you were--- well serious about all that stuff."

"I'm not like you, I don't flirt with whatever flirts with me."

"I'm not like that either."

"You are so."

"I--- do we have to have another childish argument about nothing? Who cares? YOu wrote after Sydney---"

"Do we have to talk about what I wrote? You can't submit that evidence, it was acquired through questionable means."

"Yes, we have to talk about what you wrote."

"No we don't."

"Yes we do."

"Harm---" she warned.

"Mac, I'm serious. You wrote after Sydney that I didn't love you. That was not true."

She blinked twice and shook her head as if to clear it.

"Implying something?" she asked.

"No. Saying something. Just listen. I will tell you everything directly; you don't have to look for implications and inferred meanings in everything I say. That is a large part of our problem: you never think I'm saying what I mean."

"Well you never do."

"Yes I do. I told you to wait in Sydney. That is exactly what I meant. Wait, that's what I said, that's what I meant. You if course took it to mean something entirely different. I can't really do anything about that but apologise if my message wasn't clear. Sorry, but I think you're at fault there too."

She glared, "You are seriously blaming *me* for what happened in Sydney?"

"There is really nothing to gain by assigning blame, and both parties involved must have a share, some more so than others maybe."

"So you're saying that it's both of our faults, but more mine than yours?"

"No. I actually think it was more a misunderstanding, not the life-altering melodrama it turned out to be. What happened there was blown right out of proportion. You over-reacted to what I said, and maybe that's because I didn't make it obvious what I meant, but it--- it never should have ended with you engaged to someone else and you and I, well you and I the way we were, the way we are."

"What about the way we are? We're past that."

"You say that about everything, and you never mean it."

"I do mean it."

"Fine, but I know you think that what happened in Sydney was *my* fault. Why?"

"I don't think it was your fault."

"You still hold it against me."

"Yes well---"

"Well what? I've apologised to you, I've told you what I meant to say, what more can I do?"

"Tell me what you should've said."

"I don't know what I should've said."

"Yes you do," she sighed, "You almost said it before and you did in a way, and I know you do, I know you mean it, but you never--- you never say it, and you'll never be able to say it."

"To say what?"

"Nothing, don't worry about it."

"Say what?"

"Nothing."

"Mac."

"Harm."

"What do you want me to say?"

"Well you are blind aren't you?"

"No, just deaf and dumb. What do you want me to say?"

"I can't say it."

"Why?"

"Because I mean it and--- and I'm af- I don't know what will happen if I say it."

"You're afraid to say what?"

"I am not saying it."

"Why?"

"Same reason as you're not."

"Then doesn't that make it really stupid to not say it?"

"What?"

"Well, if we're both going to say the same thing and we're both afraid for the same reason, which is we're uncertain of how the other will react, then doesn't it make it stupid to not say it?"

"But I don't know if you're going to say the same thing."

"Neither do I."

"You're the brave one."

"You're the Marine."

"I am not saying it," she repeated.

"Saying what?"

"Nothing."

"Look, after Afghanistan you wrote that you hoped we could work this out. So let's work it out Ok? It's stupid. I'm sick of playing around with you. We're not teenagers, and we know each other too well."

"So why don't you say it?"

"Because you're making this a competition to see who'll say it first."

"I am not. I'm just af- don't---"

"You're afraid. Why won't you just say that?"

"Because. Because I hate to think that you think I'm--- I don't know, I'm not your damsel in distress type Ok?"

"I know that. I don't want you to be. Saying you're afraid doesn't make you like that--- well, not to me."

"You mean that?"

"Yes. Hell, it's *harder* to say you're afraid that to pretend you're not. That's the difference between courage and bravery. Bravery is when you're not afraid, or you pretend you're not afraid. Courage is when you're shit scared but you face that fear. I don't know about you, but it sounds better to be courageous to me."

She nodded slowly.

"I'm sorry about Chegwidden's office, I---"

She laughed.

"No, it was actually pretty funny really."

"I don't see the humour in threats of court martial or worse, my transfer to various parts of the world where sub-zero conditions are prominent."

"Come on, have you ever seen that look on his face?"

"The I-am-going-to-murder-you-slowly-and-painfully-and-enjoy-every-second-of-it look? Unfortunately yes."

"No, his immediate reaction when he walked in on us," she sniggered, "That was hit sitcom material."

"If you say so."

"Harm?"

"What?"

"I'm sorry. I guess I do over-react to you a lot, today not excluded."

"That's Ok. Most of the time it's not really a problem, makes life interesting," I paused, "But would you try to listen to what I'm actually saying to you?"

"Would you stop encrypting everything you say into some weird code that is impossible to decipher?"

"Ok."

"Then yes."

"Good."

"Yeah."

"So."

"So."

"What did you want me to say?"

"Tell me you already know."

"I think I do."

"Guess then."

"No. I don't guess with you any more. Too painful."

"Ok."

"Are you going to tell me?"

She sighed and looked at me for a long moment.

"Yeah, me too," I grinned.

  
Non-verbal communication is a wonderful thing.

*           *            *            *            *            *

A/N: He he, the parody of Shakespeare just sort of happened… no offence intended. Love Shakespeare, especially Henry V. My faves are Macbeth and Hamlet, but The Merchant of Venice and The Taming of the Shrew are pretty good too. 

Meh, Shakespeare rocks.


	7. Chapter 7

*           *            *            *            *            *

A/N: Just a note to my most *critical* reader *pointed glares*, kay-14619, mush? *shrugs* Whatever you want to call it dearest.

Yeah, this is a "mush" story. *Quotes a/n from chapter one* 

"YAY!!! Total fluff fic…"

Why readers were surprised when it was revealed that there was no plot whatsoever I do not know. Seriously, if you wanted plot read something under a different genre (Romance/Humour sought of says it all---). I do have some fics with plot, several actually. 

*glares at Head once more* 

*laughs* 

*shrugs* Moving right along---

There a more innuendoes in this fic than ice in Antarctica---

Warning One: You have been warned---

Warning Two: I cannot be blamed--- I claim lack of mental responsibility. *grins* Testing out a few snippets of reality--- yes, my teenage friends and I are unashamedly flirtatious when we're lucid, when we're on sugar highs we're downright deadly. *shrugs* Too bad experience between me and fill-in the blank didn't turn out as well as with H&M.

 *          *            *            *            *            *

Over the next few days Mac and I reached an understanding: we were in love with each other. 

It was quite surprising really that after all these angst ridden years waiting for this revelation, all those ah, not-so-innocent fantasies of how it was "meant" to happen and near-constant speculation, neither of us had any idea what to do about it.

There were several long glances exchanged over staff calls, a few *accidental* (I swear---) touches, one ridiculously heated scene in the elevator on Wednesday morning (that one got around the office pretty quickly and was naturally denied in front of Chegwidden who naturally knew we were lying: something about "not caring about what he didn't know about and not knowing about what he didn't see") and days of half-hearted avoidance (on my part) and downright skilful evasion (on hers). 

We hadn't really spoken of late and Chegwidden had done his best to ensure we were opposite ends of the building professionally. Naturally I drew the short straw, practically hand-cuffed to a desk with a pen in hand. Whoever said I was the Admiral's favourite was clearly schizotypal and delusional. 

Then there was the gossip to contend with. After that little incident on Wednesday everyone (and I literally mean everyone- hell, the vermin living in the woodwork probably knew) had taken to speculation of the worst kind. The most evil and annoying of those involved was Sturgis who ceaselessly pestered me about what had happened. (In all honestly I had no idea how it had all started- some seemingly chaste comment became the victim of our imaginations and well, once our imaginations were involved along the same lines in such a small space alone, we were goners. I do believe she started it though.)

She was following through on her desire to "ignore it" when it suited her however, which was most of the time. Eventually all of this was going to get way out of control, but for now, we were still able to outrun the issue. 

  
I had convinced myself that was a good thing.

She walked into the room and instantly changed my mind.

After realising she *was* actually present and I was not imagining her, I almost fell off my chair. 

"Hey," she said slowly.

"Hey," I echoed faintly, "What are you doing here?"

She laughed, "I work here too you know."

"But what---you've been avoiding me since--- well since Wednesday actually." 

"I haven't been avoiding you," she lied, "I just---"

"Yes?"

"I just---"

"Haven't spoken to me? Walked the other way when you saw me coming?" I suggested.

"That's," she began to protest, "Ok, that's true. But not the walk the other way part, I may have tactfully avoiding running into you, but I never migrated in the opposite direction, to be fair."

"Ok, to be fair."

There was an incredibly awkward pause.

"Harm?"

"Yes?"

"I can't really remember why I'm here. I just wanted--- I'm not ignoring you."

"You are."

"Well you certainly return the favour incredibly well."

"Learnt from the best," I grinned.

"I don't want to be ignoring you."

"Then why are you?"

"Because. I don't really *know* why."

"That makes sense counsellor."

"Ok, I do know why- because you're getting to me and that can only be a bad thing. I mean, I can't concentrate, seriously, did you hear what happened yesterday?"

"No."

"Well, I, um, gave the wrong closing argument in court, not to mention the fact that I've walked into several doors this week, began talking to myself at the most awkward of times, accidentally admitted to Sturgis that, uh, well I told him what I wanted for Christmas, misplaced half my paperwork- and that may be a good thing- but, God damnit you make me so-- so-- so *normal* Harm, and I don't like it."

I laughed at her.

"This is not funny. You do understand what I am telling you? You make me typical, normal, cliché," she paused in frustration, "That is a bad, bad thing because that means that you are getting to me and that is invariably bad because it leads to me being, well, ditzy, scatterbrained and increasingly vague in important situations."

Mac is cute when she's mad.

"I mean, do you know what I accidentally said to Harriet the other day? I think I vaguely admitted having a strong desire to sleep with you. I can't stop thinking about anything else and that is getting really annoying and increasingly inappropriate---"

  
Really cute.

"It's really starting to piss me off as a matter of fact---"

"Mac?"

"What?"

"Shut up."

"Excuse me?"

"I told you to shut up."

"My point."

"Seriously, you're rambling."

"I know."

"And you don't need to."

"I know."

"In fact you don't have to say anything."

"Yes I do," she sighed, "While talking to you is always a disaster, not talking to you is worse."

"In what way?"

"Well, to add to the list of stupid things I have done this week I have also fallen off a chair- thank God I was alone that time- scanned something I meant to photocopy, put orange juice in my coffee--- and the list of things that suggest I see my hairdresser for a new colouring continues."

"No, I like you as a brunette."

She stared at me, "That is your only comment on the issue?"

"Well no," I began, looking at her eyes very closely trying to predict whether she was seriously murderous or just mad, "But I'm sure this newfound brainlessness is caused by sexual tension- something relatively easy to fix."

She rolled her eyes something grand, "Is that the male solution to *everything*?"

Just mad.

"No, I believe Einstein invented some mathematical equations to solve a few problems."

She glared, "You are not taking me seriously."

"What do you want me to say Mac?"

"Do we have to go through this again? Is it not apparent what I want you to say?"

"I don't think here is the time or the place for that."

"When will it be the time or the place? If I told you that this is your last chance- and I mean last chance- that if you didn't say it I would walk straight of here and into the Admiral's office and ask for a transfer to the opposite side of the planet, call the six other men that persist in calling me to ask me to dinner and accept an invitation from all of them and get on with my life, what would you do?"

"I tell you I loved you, but you'd have trapped me into it wouldn't you?"

"Yes, I suppose I would've, but no matter- this is your last chance Harm. Stop playing games with me right here, right now or I will walk away and this ship will sail."

"Then I love you Sarah. Quite frankly you've known that for at least four days, and a hell of a lot longer really. I don't know why you came in here searching for a bottom line, but that is mine. I love you. It's that simple."

"Nothing is ever *simple* when you're involved," she muttered.

"You are still mad at me."

"Yes."

"What was I *meant* to say? What was I *meant* to do? Please tell me, because I did exactly what you asked and you are still pissed off."

She sighed, "I don't know what to expect with you but I'm always disappointed. Don't try to figure that out, it makes no sense, but hey, when do I make sense?"

I stared her, wondering if she'd kill me if she knew when I thought she made perfect sense. A few kisses in the break room and Wednesday morning came to mind.

I shrugged, "I don't know what more you want from me, but I don't think it's me you're mad at. Why do you think you're always disappointed? You set standards that are damn near impossible to reach for me, and for yourself and that is who I think you're mad at."

"Are you actually telling *me* how *I* feel?"

"Well you seem to have no idea, so one of us has to do it."

"I *do* know how I feel and I don't like it much."

"Ok, now it's your turn: how do you feel Sarah?"

It's surprisingly easy to call her by her first name. One would've expected that calling her something different would've seemed strange, but it was actually quite comfortable. I guess I'd been mentally calling her that for a while.

"I," she began dramatically, "Am in love with you. And I don't like it because I always feel like you're using that against me, that you're toying with me, that you're not serious. I hate it. Not only that, you make me feel clingy and pathetic and I hate that too."

"Sarah you are not pathetic and you are certainly not clingy. I am not playing around with you, I would never use the fact that you love me against you and I am more serious than I have ever been before. Would you listen to me for a change?"

"I am listening."

"Would you believe me?"

"I do believe you."

"Then believe me when I say I love you."

"I do and—God damnit I love you too."

"Why God damnit?"

"Because you are the most infuriating person I know."

"Like I said, sexual tension. Easily rectified."

"Really?" she retorted flirtatiously.

"Yes."

It was the greatest relief I had felt in days. That conversation had been way too deep and meaningful for my liking, this light-hearted turn was a relief from the constant analysis required to survive such a tête-à-tête with Sarah Mackenzie.

"It won't work," she interrupted my thoughts softly.

"What won't work?"

"Us--- and your solution."

"Why not?

"Well because we just have a history that's all."

"You aren't going to turn around and blame me are you?"

"Well it might be partly your fault."

I must've looked hurt.

"Oh Harm," she laughed at my facial expression, "It's not you- I'm sure *you'd* be great," she grinned, "It's me."

I eyed her studiously, "I see no problem Colonel."

"You address me by rank," she sighed, "And herein the problem begins to emerge."

"I don't remember any section of the UCMJ that said I couldn't prove a point to my gorgeous Marine partner."

"The UCMJ?" she waved her hand in dismissal, "I couldn't care less about the UCMJ. But yes, I am a Marine Corps Colonel---"

"You hinting at the fact that you're superior in rank?" 

I didn't remind her that it was only by six months.

"No."

"Good. I was beginning to wonder if you remembered that part of A Few Good Men--- you know, the 'if you haven't had a blow job from a senior officer'---"

She cut me off abruptly, raising one eyebrow, "Put it away Commander."

I couldn't resist laughing at her reaction, "Come on Colonel, how many times have you told me you don't bite?"

Her unamused look was replaced by a wide smile, "Only when asked," she quipped.

"I still fail to see how despite the fact that you want this, you are the reason it won't work. Make a coherent argument counsellor or yield the floor."

She crossed her arms across her chest and exhaled in a steady, seductive stream, "Because," she paused, "I am a difficult woman to please."

"And I like a challenge."

She glared softly, failing to keep a serious expression, "Are you trying to talk me into this?"

"No," I flashed her a little smile, "You're trying to talk yourself out of it."

"Objection, argumentative."

"Withdrawn."

"Are you serious?"

"Are you not?"

"Answer the question," she demanded, her standard frustration setting in when I pulled what I guess is my typical MO.

"Yes."

A one-word answer that left no one guessing. Mac barely contained her surprise.

"You're not going to run?" she asked, in a genuinely inquiring tone, which displayed no hint of sarcasm.

"No," I responded, "Why would I run?"

"Well," she inhaled nervously, "It's just- every other- because you always do."

"Can I question the impartiality of the legal parties involved counsellor? It appears the jury has already made up her mind before the evidence is displayed to the court."

"Merely making a logical prediction of future trends by past behaviour."

"One-love," I acknowledged.

"No, you had me a few times back there," she argued, "One-two, to you."

"Who's keeping score?"

"One-three."

I took a step closer to her, "I'm not running any where Mac."

"Why not?"

"Because, why run away from everything you want?"

"You're the expert, you tell me."

"Sometimes you're afraid you don't deserve it. Maybe you're a little messed up, a little scared of how you feel and think she's worthy of more than that."

"Do you ask her how she feels?"

"She tells you."

"Do you give her a reason or just--- just push her away?"

"You tell her to wait."

"And she waits."

"No, she misunderstands."

"You think?"

"I know."

"How?"

"You almost lose her."

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah, she finds what she wants with someone else."

"How do you know what she wants?"

"You don't, you've gotta guess."

"Assuming facts not in evidence."

"She says she's happy."

"I don't remember saying I was happy with anyone but you---"

I closed the distance between us and kissed her to silence her.

"Mm, Harm!" she protested, "This won't work-"

"Not what you said in Sydney."

"That was different. I know you think where we are doesn't change who we are, but does it not change how we feel? You can't honestly say that being here, now, today, in this environment has no effect on-"

I kissed her again.

"You talk too much, has any man ever told you that?"

"Only you," she muttered.

"You really know how to kill a mood Colonel."

"Good to know we have something in common."

"Two-three."

"I thought you weren't keeping score,"

"No, I asked who was. Twisting my words again?"

"Two-four."

"So you're a hard woman to please huh?"

"It's been said."

"Then we'll do it your way," I paused, seating myself on the edge of my desk, "On one condition."

"What's that?" 

I pulled her toward me, "You banish the 'this won't work' phrase from your extensive vocabulary."

"Done."

"I'd shake your hand to confirm that deal Colonel but-"

"There are better ways and means?"

"Something like that."

I kissed her again. 

Within minutes she *somehow* ended up half-lying on my desk, several piles of painstakingly sorted and completed paperwork spilling themselves all over the floor. Due to the fusion of our mouths it was quite impossible for me to be in any position but leaning over her, one of my hands beneath several layers of clothing and quite amused by the skin of her lower back, the other fondling the back of her neck. 

She broke the contact with a huge smile, pushing me upright and sitting herself, pulling herself into my lap and playing with my slides absently. Watching me intently, she closed the distance between our lips once more, pulling me to her by my shoulders. I moved the hand on her neck upwards, gently threading my fingers through her hair as one of her hands reached over my shoulder to my back and the other slid down my chest, resting firmly against my breast pocket.

I wasn't sure how long I sat their kissing her before the Admiral walked in. I don't know how long I sat their kissing her after the Admiral walked in, but it was safe to assume that at some point in time, the Admiral did knock at the door, and enter without either Mac or I realising. It is also safe to assume that the door was open behind him because around the same time her hand started sliding downwards again Chegwidden (to me an anonymous inconsiderate idiot with what I concluded to be the worst timing) slammed the door behind him before Mac or I had a chance to move. When I looked up, I was incredibly unfortunately met with the sight of my Commanding Officer glaring at me furiously. 

I groaned inwardly. This situation was nasty: I had been caught with Sarah Mackenzie in my lap, her uniform once again partly removed (I was yet to decide whether this was a good thing or a bad thing) and her lips capturing mine for a another time. Again- this made three times in one week! Why was five uninterrupted minutes too hard to find around this office? 

Mac very promptly extracted herself from my lap and slid off my desk, I attempted to remove her lipstick from my face and our CO glowered at us. She looked like a cat that had been caught with a feather in its whiskers, I don't know how I looked, but I felt really sheepish.

Again. God must hate us. How the hell did we get caught three times? And twice by a two-star--- life is so unfair.

"I am not even going to attempt to speak to the pair of you right now," Chegwidden stated quietly, in obvious exasperation, "I am going to walk out of this office and close the door. I am going to return to my own office and try not to think about what I just saw. Then my two senior officers are going to come and speak to my Yeoman and request my audience, which they will get, however I will be the one putting on the show. Correct me if I'm mistaken, but did I just observe the said senior officers in a compromising position on someone's desk? Actually, on second thoughts, I don't want to know. Get a room and get it over with please," the Admiral practically begged, "And my dear God, if you see it fit, please ensure I never have to observe such a display again."

With that, he turned at strode out, opening and slamming the door closed with the dramatic movements only an Admiral can execute to effect. I stared at the closed door. 

"Harm?"

"Yeah?"

"I think we might be in a little trouble."

"Just a little," I began dryly, "I mean, there's a slim chance."

"A slight possibility," she agreed, crossing the room so she was standing in front of me, "Nice one Rabb."

"You played an extremely active role Mackenzie."

"Hell yes," she responded, drawing out the 's' in a hiss of breath that was very enticing.

"I guess we were busted," I shrugged.

She leant in to kiss me.

"Completely," she agreed breathily.

I pressed my lips to hers again.

"Totally," I added against the corner of her mouth as we both inhaled.

She turned her head and the quick brush of our lips rapidly deepened once more.

"Utterly," she nodded breathlessly.

"Three times in one week," I murmured into her neck.

"People will say we're in love," she replied.

"Our CO will have our asses booted out of the services."

She laughed a little, her stomach shaking beneath my hand.

"We'll need good lawyers," she mused. 

"My mother will be ecstatic."

"Our friends will go crazy."

I pictured Harriet's reaction now.

"We'll spend ages discussing plans to elope," I murmured, with that reaction in mind.

"Chloe will want to be a flower girl."

"We'll keep that promise we made four years ago when little AJ was born."

She laughed again, "I'll tell you all the fantasies I've had involving you and---" she trailed off into a sigh.

"Me and?"

"Hmm, elevators, photocopiers, desert sands, ah, desks, filing cabinets, bedrooms, bathrooms, your couch, um---"

  
Kissing her to shut her up got easier every time I did it.

"Is there anywhere you didn't think of?" I asked her suggestively.

"I don't think so."

"Submarines?"

She smiled slyly, "Covered."

"Air carriers?"

"Every time I've been on one."

"Pentagon command centre?" I teased.

"Wish I'd realised those ones," she said with a raised eyebrow, pressing against me.

"Jeez, you have a wandering mind Colonel."

"Oh yes, I won't tell you just how far my mind has wandered around you."

"Chegwidden's office?"

  
Her sly smile became downright wicked, "I won't say at risk of distracting you while we're getting our asses kicked later."

"Who are you and what have you done with my partner?"

Her hand pushed against my thigh, "Oh Harm, I *am* your partner. And please tell me you know my name by now surely?"

"Sarah," I exhaled into her parted lips, drawing her as close as was physically possible and pressing my jaw against hers nothing short of eagerly.

"Yes," she grinned breathlessly, "That's my name. Very good."

"We'd better stop this."

"Why?" 

"Because I am not going to be able to control myself if you persist."

She lowered her eyes to meet mine, "I'd like that."

"I'm not saying that I wouldn't like that too, but for two reasons that would be impossible right now. The first: this is not the place, the second: we don't have time."

"We have a least five minutes before Chegwidden comes back in here and hauls us into his office," she informed me seductively.

"After seven years of waiting you'd be happy with five minutes?" I jibed.

"I'd take whatever I could get with you."

I was a little shocked by that statement. Lt Colonel Sarah "Mac" Mackenzie was rarely so brazen and when she was--- well it was never about sex. Then again, before today Lt Colonel Sarah "Mac" Mackenzie had rarely kissed me. Yet it was the same woman standing in front of me, minus the rank and the nickname. Yeah, I decided I was going to like Sarah more than Mac.

"And you can have whatever you want right after we neutralise the hostile two-star."

"Sounds like a plan," she murmured, still firmly enveloped by my hold around her waist.

I stood and she straightened my collar contemplatively. 

"You're gonna have a bitch of a stain on the that white shirt," she informed me, eyeing the lipstick warily and pulling my jacket up to cover it, "Sorry about that."

"Hey, at least it's not blood," I joked, "You are the only woman I know who comes into my office trying to kill me and leaves after making out with me for the better part of 30 minutes."

"25 and a half," she corrected automatically, "And yes, I expect to be the only woman who makes out with you anywhere," she replied nonchalantly, smoothing down the front of her own uniform as best she could while still held so close to me.

"Would you let go of me for just one minute?" she commanded.

I shrugged, "I'd prefer not to, but Ok."

I kissed her forehead lightly and looked down at her for a long moment. 

She smiled up at me and stepped backward out of my embrace.

"See," I informed her quietly as she stood at the door, "I don't have to say it."

"I know," she smiled, "But it's nice to hear."

*           *            *            *            *            *           


	8. Chapter 8

A/N from Chapter 7 apply: innuendo etc.

*           *           *           *           *           *

Her hand hadn't left my upper arm. It was firmly fastened just above my elbow and was becoming a source of potentially fatal distraction. Ordinarily it would've been one of those innocent touches I loved, but today, after that display of affection in my office, it was closer to a reason to pin her against a wall somewhere and well- yes. In any other circumstances, I wouldn't have minded Sarah Mackenzie being the subject of such a distraction, but crossing the bullpen to face the Admiral was not a great time to be entertaining such thoughts. I turned to face her to find her staring up at my quizzically.

"Penny for your thoughts Sailor."

I inhaled, no way was I going to tell her that my thoughts involved her and filing cabinet and a locked door. I settled for a diplomatic answer (ie. not a lie; just a truth that left out the incriminating parts.)

"I was thinking about you."

"Really?" she inquired knowingly, her left eyebrow raising the way it always does when she catches me out.

"Yeah."

"I can imagine."

"After recently becoming acquainted with your imagination, it would be ten times worse than reality."

She shrugged, "True."

We had reached Tiner's desk. He rose and stood at attention. 

"Sir, Ma'am."

"Thanks Tiner," she responded, "Is Admiral Chegwidden free?"

"Yes Ma'am."

"The Commander and I would like to speak with him please."

"He mentioned that Ma'am," Tiner stated, turning to speak into the phone.

"Did he?" she answered, gulping a little. When she turned to face me, her eyes were laughing and her cheeks were flushed an interesting shade of scarlet.

"Wondering how much he mentioned Marine?" I asked her quietly, leaning in a little too close.

I felt her shiver against me and was forced to suppress a smile when she lost an inch in height. 

"Something like that," she whispered, stepping away as Tiner spun to face us once more.

"He said he's ready for you if you're ready for him," Tiner notified us. We subsequently exchanged looks of dread before thanking him and walking toward the door.

I knocked on the door warily.

"ENTER," Chegwidden summoned.

"Sir," we both called in unison.

"Ah, Colonel, Commander, have a seat."

We glanced at each other again before complying.

"Would either of you care to explain yourselves?" he asked us.

After a long pause we both started talking at once.

"Well sir, we were just--"

"Colonel Mackenzie and I were, uh---"

"I didn't think so," he cut both of us off, "I am sure you are both aware that this is the Judge Advocate General headquarters of the United States Navy?"

"Yes Sir," we responded in perfect time.

"This is the Navy's top legal establishment and I will not allow standards of professionalism to slip while I am the JAG, do you understand me?"

"Yes Sir."

"This is not the first, not the second, but the third time the pair of you have been in my office because of PDA's in my military establishment in a matter of days. I happen to love baseball and its three strikes and your out. This would be your third strike," the CO reported.

All the baseball talk had me thinking of bases. A good look in Mac's direction and that was it. (She obviously hadn't realised, but the top button of her blouse was undone and following the line it created towards her---well I was getting one heck of visual.) My mind had officially left the building and was now travelling a dangerous road.

_Ok, here we go, we got a real pressure cooker going here, two down, nobody on, no score, bottom of the ninth, there's the wind up and there it is, a line shot up the middle, look at him go. This boy can really fly!_

_He's rounding first and really turning it on now, he's not letting up at all, he's gonna try for second; the ball is bobbled out in centre, and here comes the throw, and what a throw!_

_He's gonna slide in head first, here he comes, he's out! No, wait; safe--- safe at second base, this kid really makes things happen out there._

Batter steps up to the plate, here's the pitch--- he's going, and what a jump he's got, he's trying for third, here's the throw, it's in the dirt--- safe at third! Holy cow, stolen base!

"COMMANDER?"

I jumped slightly and turned toward the source of the noise.

"Yes Sir?"

"DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?"

"Yes Sir."

His tone softened, thank God. 

"This is your last warning. I'm going to pretend I have no idea about this relationship and I trust you will keep it out of the office," he paused, "If you don't, let me assure you, there will be hell to pay. I don't want to hear any more stories from anyone about conduct unbecoming in this building, be it in that damn break room, the elevator or an office," his eyebrow furrowed in what I was sure was amusement, "If I do, your sixes will be in a court martial for Christmas, do I make myself clear?"

"Yes Sir," Mac replied predictably, around the same time as I uttered, "Crystal Sir." 

"Now I don't want that, because I've already purchased other gifts for each of you. If you were any other two people you'd be packing your things now and shipping out to opposite ends of the globe, if not out of this man's Navy, but you are not any other two people," he stopped again and sighed wearily, "Harm, Mac, this has been a long time coming. I would be a failure as a CO if I hadn't predicted this, although I didn't imagine such passionate displays on Rabb's desk. I say this as a friend and as an ancient Navy officer- work it out away from work. I don't want to have to separate you. Personally and professionally that would be a disaster for both of you. Quite frankly Mac, Harm needs you to keep him out of trouble and Harm, when I have seen Mac at her best in a courtroom it has invariably been after a dispute with you. Even when you bring out the worst in each other you bring out the best in each other, and both of you would suffer from a transfer from one another."

I half-shrugged and listening to Chegwidden's advice. It was probably true; she did save my butt a lot.

"Personally I have no idea what kind of hell you have endured to get to where you were about twenty minutes ago. I am pretty sure it manifests in another man's ring and a 40 million dollar aircraft being dumped in the Atlantic. Harm, whatever I said to you in Sydney about never looking back was five-star bullshit. If you love her, then don't let her get away. Mac, same to you. I have watched you two dance circles around one another for seven years. I said it before and it bears repeating: get a room and get it over with. I don't care where or how and please, for the love of God, spare me details, but I damned near encourage it as long as it is not on this base. While you're in that room either screw each other or kill each other because God knows that is the only way to settle the tension between you that has this entire office taking sides, spreading rumours and in chaos. You've sucked my entire staff into a dangerous vortex, which quite matter-of-factly, they are underqualified to navigate. If you don't mind, I'd appreciate some amends made for that offence. I don't care how you do it, but I suggest you put the junior staff back to work, and kick Commander Turner back into line. I have heard some of the scuttlebutt born in his office and none of it is worth restating. Needless to say, it's some pretty heated shit," Chegwidden sighed, "Between the pair of you you'll kill me if I don't kill you first. Now I don't want to hear about this relationship until there is a ring on her finger, do you understand me?"

"Yes Sir."

"At such time arrangements will be made to accommodate your professional and personal interests. Now get the hell out of my office."

We both stood and came to attention.

"Aye aye Sir,"

"And Commander?"

"Yes Sir."

"You'd better look after her or I swear, you will be shovelling snow in Alaska."

"I will take every pleasure in looking after her Sir," I responded, slipping out the door with Mac following.

"You will will you?" she asked, pressing her lips together firmly.

"Oh yes," I answered as she pushed past me and sauntered into her office.

I followed her.

"Are we Ok?"

She nodded.

"Really?"

"Mmm."

"Sarah---"

"We're fine, really we are," she assured me.

"What was he yelling about in there?" I questioned, "You Ok?"

She nodded again, "And how come you don't know what he was yelling about?"

"Oh I was a little distracted," I answered evasively, waiting until she closed the distance between us to reach out and secure her top button.

She stared up at me.

"Is this all we are going to be about?" she asked seriously.

"No," I responded without needing time to think, "No, of course not."

"Cuz it seems that all you ever think about is---"

"That's not true. You are my best friend. I may be in love with you, but first and foremost you are my best friend and you always will be. Understand?"

"Yes," she smiled a small smile.

"Sarah Mackenzie if I didn't know better I'd say you'd had time to consider the realities of the situation and now you're second guessing us."

"Maybe true," she admitted, keeping her distance from me.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she replied, too quickly, "Nothing is wrong."

"Then why are you so quiet all of a sudden?"

"Harm, the Admiral is right. We work best when we work together, and if we do--- this we, you know we wouldn't be allowed to work together any more. I'm beginning to wonder if we should just- it's too late to go back now isn't it?"

She watched my reaction carefully. I just stood there, unsure of how to feel.

"Yes it is," she answered her own question, "And in all honestly I don't want to. But, but how is this going to turn out?"

"I don't know," I replied honestly, "I don't have a clue. All I know is no matter how shit scared I am of finding out, I'd go crazy without you. So there, that's all I'm going to say. Your turn."

"I don't want to lose you if it doesn't work out. And combined with our history with each other and with members of the opposite sex, well, all the evidence is against us Harm."

"Like I said: first and foremost my best friend. Besides, we've been up against worse odds than this and everything has turned out reasonably well in the end, maybe a little different from expectations, but the situation has always been liveable."

"Is liveable good enough?"

"As long as you're still at the very least a friend, then for me, yeah. For you, I don't know. Like I said before, you set high standards Sarah."

She nodded slowly, "Yeah, I guess I do."

"Let's do a quick review: we are in love with each other, we're both very stubborn people who are used to making things work, we're pretty obviously physically attracted to each other, we can have conversations without speaking to each other and emotionally, we're probably as close to each other as we have been to anyone. Sure, there are other arguments, but that's a pretty strong one that says we can make something a lot better than merely liveable. I don't know what you want to hear, but I think you have too many doubts and not a whole lot of confidence in me and in you more than anyone. You're unsure of yourself and I have no idea why. You're a very capable person Sarah Mackenzie, and you always see sense, so what is your issue?"

"You will break my heart."

"I don't know what to say to that. I can't promise I won't, cuz I seem to hurt you very easily. It's a risk we have to take."

"Are you willing to risk everything we have for something we don't even know will work out?"

"Yes, because as I said on Monday when you got back, is normal really good enough? You and I both know that doing nothing will eventually kill our relationship. Being friends is safe, really safe, but we both know what we want and denial can only lead to disaster. Sure, we can be friends, just friends, and you can fall in love and marry someone else and I probably can too, but how miserable would we be? You have no idea how hard it was to see with someone else. And yes, I was going to let you marry him, because you did say you were happy with him. I loved you enough to let you go, and I was weak enough to give you up without a fight, until it became a really sombre reality. Then I realised something- I couldn't bear to lose you to anyone. There was one thing that was perfectly clear in my mind that stuck out through all the crap in the Atlantic Ok? And that was you. That image probably induced the little lucidity I had, but hell, there were a few insane thoughts going through my head. The first was something about parting on bad terms. The second was 'oh shit I'm gonna die'. The third was 'who gives a damn, by the time they haul my six outta here, Mac's gonna be married to Mic Brumby and in all honesty, what's the point in living though this near-death encounter just to face that hell?' The fourth was just how much I loved you. I originally thought that realisation had hit like a Stinger missile, then I became aware that it was just one bitch of a wave that had pushed me under---"

"That's right Flyboy," she interrupted under her breath, "Sucker all the romance out of it."

"But the more I thought about it and the closer I came to losing consciousness, the less insane most of those thoughts seemed. In fact, I realised all of them were true, and they increased in order of importance. One- well I should've said something a little earlier and we should've had a better discussion about me going to fly the day you left early before the wedding, that's given. Two- yeah, I might've died. Three- what is life without you anyway? Sarah, I have a heck of an imagination when you're involved, but I cannot imagine you not being here Ok? And you marrying Brumby was like, like hell. It didn't get any worse. Punishment for Sydney? A thousand times at least. Penance for the chances I didn't take but should've, the things I didn't do but should've, the things I didn't say, but should've- oh yeah, easily a million times over. And four- yes four was the most important- I was in love with you. Completely, totally, head-over-heels in love with you. I'd been aware of that for some time, since before Sydney, hell, I'd probably subconsciously been in love with you since I first saw you in that damn rose garden, but this, this was different. At your engagement party? Well I told, ok, *implied* that I was in love with you, I'd known it myself and all that jazz. In the Atlantic? Sarah, we're talking oxygen-replacing love here. Not just, yeah I love her, could spend the rest of my life with her, have kids with her, white picket fence, matching plots side-by-side. We're talking eternity, forever, infinite, as-natural-as-breathing-and-even-more- necessary-for-survival love. The tidal wave's impeccable timing was no accident, more a message from God," I inhaled, "I am in love with you, I need to be in love with you and I want to be in love with you, and yes, it is worth risking quote 'everything we have' for that, for you. Now I'm gonna shut up, because that was a whole lot more than I intended to tell you and one hell of a speech and I don't think I have anything left where that came from, so I hope you're convinced."

She stared at me for a long moment.

"Yes, I am convinced," she paused, "I don't think it will be easy, but we can try."

"Good answer."

"Great speech."

I shrugged, "It was the truth--- besides, how could I call myself a lawyer if, despite all the evidence on my side and my command of the English language, I could not convince you to reach the logical conclusion about us?"

"What would that conclusion be counsellor?"

I kissed her softly at first, moving closer to deepen the contact when she pulled away.

"You heard what Chegwidden said---" she reminded me, not bothering to finish her sentence.

"There are some orders from Admirals that I find difficult to obey," I began, eyeing her appreciatively, "On the other hand there are some---"

"That are all too easy?" she recommended with a smile.

"Something like that," I replied, stepping closer to her.

"Wanna get a room and get it over with Commander?" she inquired.

Before I had time to respond she'd planted an inferno starting kiss on my lips and dragged me halfway out the door.

*           *           *           *           *           * 

A/N: The li'l baseball commentary in the Admiral's office was courtesy of good ol' Meat Loaf, and "Paradise By The Dashboard Light".

*screams*  
  
I AM GOING TO MEAT LOAF IN FEBRUARY!!! 

*screams again*

Ok, ok, yeah, as you may have guessed, this 13-year-old-turning-14-in-just-24-days is THE Meat Loaf fan--- don't own the little commentary though, just so you all know.


End file.
